Close (But no Cigar)
by Seraina
Summary: "For a second he could swear… but the lifeless grin just mimicked Stan's usual façade back at him. And the figure was covered in glitter; no living being could be coated in that much glitter and still smile. She couldn't know, could she?" Stan meets Wax Stan and thinks of another. Spoilers for "Not What He Seems". Part of my Evil Twin Series.


**Close (But No Cigar)**

_"I know some day I'll meet him_

_But I don't know where or when" _

\- My Evil Twin by They Might Be Giants

"I found my pants but now I'm missing my…" Stan's mouth dropped open at the sight of the figure that stood in front of him. For a second he could swear… but the lifeless grin just mimicked Stan's usual façade back at him. And the figure was covered in glitter; no living being could be coated in that much glitter and still smile.

She couldn't know, could she? He chanced a look down at his great-niece and saw no malicious intent in her face.

No. She was innocent as a newborn baby.

"What do you think?" She practically bounced as if her small body couldn't contain all of her energy.

What did he think? She had recreated his image so perfectly it took his breath away. But instead of the mirror she intended, all he could see was the twin whose absence was still so keenly felt even after thirty long years.

"I think… the Wax Museum is back in business!" It was a lame cover, but the children didn't seem to catch on. Mabel and Dipper trotted off to play some game or other, leaving him with his waxy twin. Thankfully the gift shop was closed already, so he brought the wax sculpture with him into the living room so he could look at it more closely.

He was alone, at least for now. "Different glasses, take off thirty years, and add two fingers and it'd just be like old times, eh, Ford?"

Stan sighed and sat down in his chair, quickly untying his tie and loosening his belt out of habit. He turned the TV on in case the kids came back early, then felt the near invisible scars along the sides of his hands. They'd been identical once, but the extra digits made him too unique and Stanley Pines could not afford to be unique as he pursued grifting as a career to get himself out of the dead-end he and his brother found themselves in after their parents died.

Ford was always the better one. He worked and saved and scraped together enough to go to college. He got himself grants and scholarships and studied hard. What had he done? He moved from town to down, name to name and accumulated enough cash to be comfortable… at least until he got the itch to move along again. That's what got him in trouble. He'd left a little too much behind once and hadn't found out until much later one of the girls he'd been seeing had a son. His son.

His luck turned about then and he'd ended up doing a few years in prison. But strangely enough it was Ford that picked him up the day he of his release. They fell back into their old habits, despite the years they'd been apart. They almost didn't even need to talk. That's when Ford started to explain the strange things he'd seen in this town. His brother had also introduced him to his son the first time, which had been awkward but enjoyable as well.

1982 had been a good year, at least half of it had been. When July rolled around, well… that's when things fell apart. Ford was missing, Fiddleford had driven himself mad and Stanley… nobody would miss Stanley. Not even his ex and son. Besides, the boy was better off without him.

He'd faked his own death and assumed Ford's identity, using his savings from his grifting keep things in motion. He rebuilt his brother's home (his home) and filled it with cheesy attractions to keep the questions at bay. Ford hadn't exactly been open and friendly to the townspeople, so the opening of the Mystery Shack went over well enough. He made enough of a living to keep searching for Ford's journals.

He was going to find him one day. He glanced over at his wax doppelganger. "I miss ya Ford."

Stan heard the kids running through the gift shop and stood up, taking Wax Stan with him to his office. He stood Wax Stan next to his desk and pulled out a cigar. "I know I'm close, Ford. Closer than I've ever been. Soon you'll be here, giving me that disapproving frown and just shaking your head."

_"Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, Lee."_

Stan laughed, wedging open the window a little before he lit the cigar. He'd given up drinking many years ago, but he indulged in the occasional cigar now and then. "I know, Ford, I know. The fancy scientist can't stand such inaccurate measurements." He grinned at the waxy representation, not worried in the least that he seemed to be having auditory hallucinations. Or maybe he was just being a sentimental old bastard.

A sigh escaped along with cigar smoke and Stan kicked his feet up on his desk. "I love those kids. But it's just not the same, you know?"

Wax Stan didn't speak. Or move. Or seem to resemble his long-lost brother anymore. Now it was just a glittery hunk of wax in a creepy dark room with a creepy old man.

"You'd love them too. Mabel's more my speed. She'd be an amazing grifter. Dipper… Dipper's more your type, a thinker. A brain. He's smart and he's going to get in a lot of trouble one day." A halfhearted attempt at a smoke ring escaped Stan's lips. "I really hope I can get through his thick skull before he follows you into the great unknown."

His previously good mood was now somewhere in that bottomless pit he kept falling into. He really should put a grate over that thing or something.

"Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Stan!"

Stan quickly put out his cigar and sat up, waving the smoke outside so that nobody would complain about the evils of smoking in the near vicinity of children and lungs and all that craziness. "What is it? What do you want?"

"We're hungry!" Dipper opened the office door, but stood at the threshold. The kids hadn't ever been in his office before and it was surprising that they were waiting for permission before entering. Mabel stood beside her brother, rocking back and forth, but grinning at Wax Stan.

"Alright, alright. How about we get a pizza or something? To celebrate the museum's grand re-opening?" Stan stood up with a groan. Being old was terrible. He shuffled towards the hallway and ruffled the kids' hair. Okay, maybe it wasn't so terrible with the kids around.

"Pizza! Pizza!" Mabel started chanting and running around in circles.

"Thanks Grunkle Stan." Dipper smiled up at him.

"You're welcome. Now go, you know what to order." Stan followed a little slower, his hand still on the doorknob of his office.

Close.

But no cigar. But he'd have that cigar soon. He and Ford would sit in that office and laugh about Wax Stan. Because Ford would enjoy the chance to laugh at his brother. And Stan would take it because Ford was the only one that could get away with it.

"Grunkle Sta-an!" Mabel shrieked, stretching out his name.

He cast one more glance at Wax Stan. "I'm coming."


End file.
